


Clarity Through Smoke

by Occasionalcoffeethereturn



Category: The X-Files RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:03:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5018515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Occasionalcoffeethereturn/pseuds/Occasionalcoffeethereturn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's June 2011 and a separation announcement prompts Gillian to fly to New York...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clarity Through Smoke

He reached to the back of the cabinet and pulled out a bottle. The glass was green but he had to blow the dust off the label before he could actually determine what was inside. Whisky. Was this even his? Probably some housewarming gift left over from years ago that she'd boxed up along with everything else that he'd been told was 'his'. He'd not long moved into this apartment and he still hadn't found the energy or the inclination to unpack most of his things. He had everything out that he needed and had stacked the other boxes along the back wall of the living room. At least he didn't keep walking into them, that had got really annoying.

He opened the screw top and sniffed cautiously, it was going to hit a spot for sure. His marriage was officially over, he felt he should do be drinking some hard spirits. That's what people did wasn't it? Drowned their sorrows? Only this sorrow wasn't acute, this was more like three years of protracted misery. 

With the benefit of hindsight, they should have finished things when he'd got out of rehab. It was cliche to say but it did change him and he was a different person when he came out of there. The therapy he had altered his whole outlook on love, sex and relationships. He had loved his wife, he really had but he hadn't been in love with her for years. In fact he wasn't truly sure he ever had been. He cared for her deeply, she was his best friend and the mother of his children and he liked her, he really liked her a lot. But she deserved to be with someone who could offer her so much more. That person wasn't him, not anymore. It hadn't been him for years. 

He'd battled with her to convince her of that fact and she'd fought back at him to get him to stay. She won every time. And so he couldn't do it, he couldn't leave her and he couldn't hurt her like that. After every battle there was a truce and so he stayed a little longer. Until the next fight where the vicious circle repeated itself. The strain of being in a false relationship, a relationship which was trying to be something it wasn't, something it couldn't, something it shouldn't, was a harder burden to bear than he had thought. His heart wasn't in it and he wasn't happy. And it was very hard to put on a happy face with no meaning or reflection of how he felt inside.

The battles escalated into full scale war and he had realised if they weren't careful there were going to be two casualties in the shape of their beautiful children who would suffer. He'd told her he was going, told her he couldn't do it anymore and finally she'd relented and agreed with him. The years of fighting had worn her down, his unhappiness had become hers, had enveloped her and the kids were not stupid. They heard far more than they let on he was sure and their parents unhappiness was nothing but negative for both of them.

Part of the reason he'd stayed for so long was a desperate fear of making the same mistake as his parents. If anything, his mistake was actually worse than theirs. His parents separation had been quick, he was sure it had only been six months or so though it had felt like longer. They didn't drag their kids through three years of mediocre parenting and kept up appearances. He'd only wished his Dad had been around to talk to about this. It was only him and one other person who understood how he'd be feeling. 

And that was Gillian.

Through all of this his thoughts always came back to her. It was like she was his clarity through a fog of smoke. The years had gone by between them and there had been good times and bad. But there was trust, respect and a deep understanding of one another that he'd never recreated with anyone else. He was sure she hadn't either. They'd always been on an entirely higher plane with one another. He knew how she thought, what made her tick and what ticked her off. She could look at him in a certain way and he'd feel himself calming down, feel the tension just ebb away. And underneath that all, if you stripped away the layers, it was love that held them together, he was sure of it. Because with love there came forgiveness, and she had forgiven him time and time again when he didn't deserve it. He knew he was lucky and he knew he wasn't worthy of having her, even as a friend.

He walked to his bedside cabinet to fish a plastic bag out the drawer. Another emergency supply to go with his whisky. He had done this too much since he'd been working on californication and he knew it was something he should really stop. He started up some classic stones and lit his joint. Listening to the stones whilst getting stoned. Fitting. Stereotypical. Talk about a fucking mid life crisis. 

The perfumed scent and fumes filled the room and he took a long swig of whisky straight from the bottle, the amber liquid burning his throat. He wondered if she'd show up this evening. Gillian that is, not his soon to be ex wife. He'd let her know about the separation in a long-winded text message. He'd said he was only telling her so she didn't find out by other means, but that he also wanted her to know, but that he was fine and she didn't need to worry and he was in the process of moving to a new apartment. Predictably, five seconds after he'd sent the message his phone had rung. They'd chatted for a while, skirting round the main issue which he was grateful for, but just content to hear one another's voices. She said she'd try and fly out to see him. He didn't expect anything and was a little surprised but truth be told every time his phone vibrated he'd wondered if it would be her saying she'd landed at JFK. It didn't matter if she couldn't make it, the fact she'd offered had been enough of a comfort to him.

His intercom buzzed and he jumped, nearly choking on his whisky. He rested his joint against the ash tray and stumbled a little on the way to the intercom. Shit. It was her. He told security to escort her up, mumbling about timing under his breath. In the end he left the door open a crack and sat back on the sofa, taking a long toke.

'Jesus David it smells like a fucking college dorm room in here.'

'Yeah well... I wasn't exactly expecting company.'

'I said I'd try and come over.'

He got up and took her bags from her, walking them through to his bedroom and dumping them on the floor. He kissed her on the cheek and she stood awkwardly, looking like she wanted her bags back and to get the hell out of there. Jesus where had his manners gone?

'I'm sorry. It's just you have the kids and I know it's hard for you.'

'If you want I can...'

'No. No please. Please don't go.'

He pleaded with her and grabbed hold of both of her hands, bringing them up to his lips and giving her fingers a kiss. He looked at her, into the depths of those blue eyes of hers to offer her some reassurance before pulling her into his arms. God it felt so good to hold her. He felt her arms rub small circles into his lower back and relaxed into her touch. 

'Okay.'

'Good.'

He led her over to the sofa, watching as she shed her jacket. They sat with their thighs touching, barely a whisper of space between them.

'What did you tell him about being here?'

'He thinks I'm in Chicago.'

He threw his head back against the back of the sofa and laughed at her.

'Fucking priceless. Don't tell me your mom is covering for you.'

She was silent and he laughed even harder.

'Zoe actually if you must know.'

'Jesus Gillian. That's fucking something. But then you are fucking something. At least to me.'

'David....'

She tried to warn him with her voice but the way his hand had somehow got hold of hers, the way her fingers had somehow laced with his, the way her thumb was rubbing circles on his palm betrayed anything that came out of her mouth.

'Don't say my name like that.'

'Like what?'

'Like you're warning me against something.'

'I am warning you against something! How did this...' she gestured at their hands twined together. 'How did this even happen?'

He waggled his eyebrows and giggled. 'Magic.'

'You're stoned.'

'Fuck off am I stoned. I'm a little high. I know exactly what I'm doing. What I'm saying. Why don't you have a seat and chill out a little. Loosen up. You know I don't bite.'

She was sorely tempted. She had no responsibilities for the next three days and only one other person knew where she was. She'd purposely flown out to be with him and was prepared to be there for him in whatever capacity he wanted. He'd done the same with her after both of her failed marriages and it wasn't that she felt she owed it to him to be there, rather she had found such strength from his support and a renewed enthusiasm for life and the future. If he needed that, or whatever he did need, she'd give to him. That's what friends were for. It's what best friends did. It's what you do when you love someone.

'You do bite.'

'That's my girl! And only when you ask nicely.'

He nudged her with his elbow and as she took the joint from him. She inhaled slowly and closed her mouth, holding in the smoke and trying not to cough as she exhaled.

'Well it's been a while.'

'It's good stuff huh?'

She giggled at him and he smiled. It had been so long since he'd heard that melodic laugh. Too long. It was contagious and he couldn't help but laugh with her. He'd even forgotten what, if anything, was that funny. When she allowed herself the indulgence of laughter her whole face lit up. God she was beautiful, devastatingly so.

'So you flew three thousand miles to see me. And you're trying to warn me to stay away?'

She passed the joint back to him, watching his lips wrap purse around it. Those lips. That top lip. God just how long had it been since she'd kissed him. Too long. She relaxed back against the sofa cushions and tucked her legs underneath her, moving closer to him. 

'Touché.'

'You didn't have to come you know.'

She held her breath whilst inhaling and raised one eyebrow at him. He'd taken a swig of whisky, slammed it on the table unsteadily and quickly but purposely his hand landed on her thigh. 

'But I'm glad you're here.'

She twirled the joint around towards him and he took it in his mouth, not breaking eye contact with her. He'd moved impossibly close to her now, and his hand was stroking up and down with purpose. His fingers stopped at the top of her thigh, edging round the smooth curve of her leg to her inner thigh, closer to her centre.

She blinked slowly at him, her left eye flickering and slightly behind her right. Her eyelashes fluttered, and he quelled the urge to place kisses there. Instead his fingers were tracing slow circles between her legs and she shifted to spread them to allow him better access.

'I want to be here.'

She took the joint out of his mouth and inhaled as he exhaled. This conversation was far more serious than she felt in her head. She was giddy, giggly, and knew there was a huge smile plastered across her face.

'Why?'

'Because.... You were there for me. When I was having a bad time.'

'Is that all?'

Her smile dissipated and she reached out her hand to him, her fingers on his forehead, tracing down to the slope of his nose, outlining his profile and lingering on the smoothness of his lower lip. He kissed the tips of her fingers, holding her gaze and watching her shiver next to him. She shook her head at him and took a further toke.

'What?'

She exhaled, giggling with abandon and leaning further towards him, her chin resting on the edge of his shoulder.

'You make me... Forget everything.'

'I know. I feel the same. I really need you here. I didn't realise how much until I saw you again.'

Her hand was on his thigh squeezing his leg through the material of his jeans. He was enjoying this slow seduction and the tension building between them, time with her was precious and he loved not feeling rushed. His fingers brushed at the juncture of her thighs, causing her to inhale sharply.

'Leave him.'

'David...'

'Your heart isn't in it.'

'David don't.'

'A year. I know you. You'll give it a year and then you'll leave anyway. Cut out the middle of the road agony. Leave him.'

'For what, for you?'

He pressed his fingers firmly against her clit and rubbed her through her clothes, just enough so that she'd feel his touch and be left wanting.

'Yes.'

He touched her again, more firmly this time and watched as she tried not to hitch her breath and press herself into his hand.

'Now you really are stoned.'

'Leave him. Be with me.'

She laughed; those wild giggles were back and the melodic sound filled the room. She laughed at him, laughed from the pot, laughed at the absurdity of it all, laughed about this fucked up situation. 

Here she was comforting a man whose fourteen year marriage had ended days before, when she was in a relationship with someone else, the father of her beautiful boys. A man she'd lied to, then got on a plane without remorse, without a second thought, without sense, and purely on instinct to be with David. She was drawn to him, somehow inexplicably intertwined with this man not just physically but emotionally and spiritually. She didn't doubt it; he felt the same way she did. And she knew his proposition to her, whilst she disguised it with humour and he let her, was deadly serious.

Her hand stroked him through his jeans, his cock hard against the zipper and ready in her hand. First humour and then sex. Equally successful deflections when things got too much for him, for them, but mostly for her.

'David.'

The way she said his name made him stub out the joint and pull her into his lap, her legs straddling him and in turn pushing her skirt up around her waist. Their faces were level, foreheads touching. He rubbed circles into the small of her back, kneading her strong muscles. She in turn rubbed up against him, his cock straining to reach her wet core through their layers of clothing.

Their lips touched and she opened her mouth to him automatically, his lips moving over hers. They'd both waited too long for this and she moaned her appreciation, grinding closer to him. His tongue moved against hers, chasing it around as it moved from his mouth and back to hers. He groaned against her lips, his hands squeezing her ass against him, doing little to ease the painful ache in his dick. He nipped at her bottom lip, worrying it gently between his teeth and she clutched at his back, digging her nails against him. 

His hands pushed at her skirt, forcing the material out of the way. He pushed her panties aside, fingers teasing at her entrance, hovering on the cusp of dipping inside her. She broke away from his kiss in frustration and wriggled desperately towards his hand but he moved deftly out of the way, shaking his head and laughing softly against her.

'Bastard,' she whispered.

'You don't mean that.'

He slid one finger inside her easily this time, earning himself a gasp from her as she sank herself down onto his hand. It wasn't nearly enough for her and he withdrew all too quickly, settling his attention on her clit. She was writhing against his hand now, her mouth finding his and frantic against it, breathing hard and heavy as she turned her head from one side to the other, kissing him urgently.

'Please David.'

God he was still teasing her, his finger stroking her all too gently and slowly. She tried to reach for him but he held onto her too tightly, his fingers making featherlight circles against her. She knew he was working her up so she'd beg for him to be inside her. He always knew how to get what he wanted from her and she gave in every damn time. And she probably always would, just for him.

'What?'

'I want you.'

'You want me to what?'

His finger wound down to a stop and he allowed her to rub her clit against it, relieving the pressure that was building inside of her against the rough callouses of his hand. Thank God this man had picked up a guitar and learned to play.

'I want you inside of me.'

His fingers moved away from her again and she moaned in frustration, but then in pleasure as one then two then three fingers thrust inside her. She shifted her body up and down on his hand, a fast rhythm signifying to him how she wanted to be fucked and he found himself unable to wait any longer. He shifted, allowing her more room to deftly undo his belt buckle and free his cock from his jeans.

'Gillian.'

'I'm close David I really want to come. Make me come David.'

He pulled out his fingers and coated himself in her wetness, stroking his shaft from base to tip, careful not to grip himself too hard. 

'Lay on the floor baby.'

She looked up at him, confused and trying hard to work out what he wanted her to do. The arousal had fogged her brain, all she wanted was for him to fuck her and make her come and he was telling her to do something. Why the fuck did he have to talk so much? 

'Gillian. Lay on the floor baby and lift up your skirt.'

She lifted herself up and off his lap and walked backwards on shaky legs, sitting on that green rug of his that she hated. She lent back on her elbows, her eyes meeting his, inching up the material of her skirt without breaking their gaze. His dick was still in his hand and he was stroking himself slowly. She lifted her hips as she slid her panties down her legs, tossing them to the side. 

She watched as he walked slowly towards her, picking up her discarded panties on his way to her. His belt was undone but his jeans were still on, his dick hanging out in his hand as he held it gently. Her eyes widened as he knelt before her and brought the black lacy material of her panties to his face, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply.

'I love how good you smell babe. You taste and smell so fucking good.'

She swallowed hard in anticipation and hitched her skirt a little higher.

'Now spread your legs for me.'

She did as he asked, opening herself up to him, knowing she wouldn't do this for anyone else but him. He watched her, her folds glistening wet for him, her clit as darkened and engorged as he was.

'You're so beautiful. So wet for me. Open your legs wider baby.'

He moved into the gap between her thighs, positioning himself at her entrance so she felt the heat of him. She clutched at the back of his neck to draw him closer to her as she laid back on the floor. He propped himself up on his elbows, their faces level and a thin sheen of perspiration on his forehead. She could tell he was holding back and a mixture of relief and arousal flooded through her as he pushed himself inside of her.

Their eyes met as they became one and she leaned upwards to catch his lower lips between hers, nipping at it gently. She felt his first thrust, so deep inside her she craved and cried out for more.

'Now I'm gonna make you come so hard baby.'

'Fuck David. Yes.'

Her legs were around his back, heels digging in and urging him on as he began to move, withdrawing slowly almost the way out then driving himself fast inside of her. Out slowly, then fast inside her. She tilted her pelvis up, eager to meet him on each advance, silently begging him to speed up, to let go and to lose himself in her.

'Give it to me David, come on.'

He loved it when she talked to him like this, it was rare she did it but such a turn on. He loved that she knew exactly what she wanted and needed from him and took pleasure in the fact that he gave it to her. That their coupling was just that, about the two of them.

'You want it harder babe?'

'Please.... You know I do,' she hissed at him, hands scratching at him now, her nails digging as hard as they could into his jeans to urge him on.

He never could resist her when she begged him so he took the hint and sped up, his thrusts shorter as he pulled out and hard and fast on the way inside. He wriggled his arms under her back, tilting her ass up slightly and penetrating her more deeply. He was rewarded again as she moaned long and low in her throat, a collection of incoherent expletives following after.

'Make me come David, come on.'

He pumped into her solidly, thoroughly fucking her and crushing his mouth against hers. Their kisses were clumsy, a mix of frantic nipping and sucking with clashing teeth and laboured breathing. His eyes were shut, lids clamped together to stop himself from losing it and he felt her convulsing around him.

He was seconds behind her, unable to help himself as her orgasm overtook him. He edged in and out of her, prolonging the waves of her pleasure and spilling out as he pulsated inside of her.

'Oh my god.'

She breathed hard and heavy against him, reaching for his mouth to kiss him thoroughly and slowly, her hands tangling in his hair as her mouth worked over his.

'It's so good with you. It's always been so good David.'

'I know.'

He swiped at damp strands of hair stuck to her forehead from their exertion and cupped his hand against her cheek, his thumb stroking against her soft skin. He searched her eyes with his, aware they were still joined as he slowly felt himself shrink inside her.

'I'm serious Gillian. Give it a year. I know he's not right for you. Give it a year and leave him. Then give me a real chance.'

She held his gaze, their breath mingling together and simply slowly nodded at him, her lips reaching up to kiss his forehead. It was enough of a promise for him. She knew she'd give it a year, for appearances sake and for her children. But she knew deep down, as well as he did, that the fate of her current relationship had already been decided. The outcome was unwritten but they both knew what it was. In time, her and David would get their real chance to be together and who knew, it could really work between them this time.


End file.
